Death and Flowers
by Steampunkmagic
Summary: When the young goddess Clara's life is threatened the Doctor, God of Death, takes her to the Underworld. Who had the power to kill as goddess? And who stands to gain when the Doctor's actions are called an abduction? Clara and the Doctor must find the answer to these questions and more if they ever have a hope of staying together. Hades/Persephone AU.
1. Chance Meetings

Hello My Lovelies!

I've been dying to write something for Clara and Twelve and this idea just could not be ignored.

This won't be as big a story as Violet Court (at least I'm not planning on that- watch me be wrong!)

I'm just really excited to write some more whouffle!

As always I love reviews

Enjoy :)

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><p><strong>Death and Flowers<strong>

**_Ch.1_**

**_Chance Meetings_**

White daisies sprung forth between the cobblestones, twisting up through the dirt filled cracks. They blanketed the courtyard in the illusion of lightly fallen snow, an incongruous image with the eternal sunshine which filled the streets of Olympus.

The flowers trailed behind the lone figure pacing restlessly in the stone-walled garden. Wherever her bare feet met the ground the daises followed, their tiny petals tickling the hem of the girl's red gown. When she finally took notice of the flowers she let out an irritated sigh, chocolate eyes glaring down at them in consternation.

"Stop it." Clara commanded with a huff, as if the daises were so many petulant children begging for her attention.

At the words the minuscule flowers dissolved into a fine mist around her ankles and wafted away on the ever present slight breeze. Oddly they left the scent of cinnamon in their wake.

Clara took a steadying breath and went to sit on one of the courtyard's stone benches. Climbing wisteria hung heavy on an arched lattice surrounding the bench to form a small private alcove. She needed to get her emotions under control, especially if she was starting to cause plants to bloom.

Plants were Clara's - or more accurately her mother's - domain. As a goddess of vegetation she could call to the earth and its fertile soil with her emotions and will to bring flora to life. This also meant that if she was particularly irritated, or happy, or sad, or what have you, things such as spontaneous daises occurred. It was as annoying as it sounds.

Her mother said she needed better control; she needed to command her powers rather than be commanded by them. And that was all well and good in theory, but Clara was young - she had not had eons to master herself like _some people_. She was simply a minor deity with a small amount of power, overshadowed by a pantheon of giants.

Clara pursed her sculpted lips, frowning at the thought. She hated being treated like a throw away pawn in the greater god's chess matches. She was not the only one either…

This was also the reason Clara was currently skulking in the palace gardens in a fine temper.

The Master had called a Great Gathering on Olympus, a meeting from all the four winds to settle old differences and converge on the needs of the world. It was not an event which happened often. And Clara was not allowed inside.

It turned out lesser deities were not required at such discussion, since of course they could contribute no _real_ help. The idea set Clara's teeth on edge! Sure she was not the Goddess of the Harvest like her mother, Sarah Jane, but that did not make her completely useless!

She had been looking forward to this for weeks - a fact she rather despised herself for now. Why should she care? It was not like everyone she had ever wanted to meet would be there or anything… _oh wait_.

The Master was even opening the gates to his estranged brother, the Doctor, the God of Death. Though she did not particularly want to meet him. Clara had heard enough frightful stories of the underworld and of the frigid chill of Death, which supposedly rolled off the Doctor's body in waves. They say it froze the Ichor in your veins just to meet his ice-blue eyes. Clara found it no wonder the man had been banished to the world below if all that were true.

Clara shivered and turned her thoughts to warmer ideals, plucking absently at the gold thread lining her sleeves.

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><p>The marble walls seemed to vibrate with the throng of voices and the power the owners of the those voices each gave off. It was giving the Doctor a headache - something he was not even sure he could get.<p>

His fellows bickered, and argued, and laughed over the wants of the universe and their own. Yet no one wanted his input on any of these issues, since _'Death has nothing to do with Life'_. So he stood stiffly off to the side, an imitation of the various painted statues also lining the hall.

The Master, who sat on his carved throne at the head of the room, occasionally caught the Doctor's gaze and smiled in a way that showed he knew exactly how uncomfortable he felt and was relishing it. Missy, the Master's wife, however just smiled at him invitingly whenever their eyes met.

Honestly she made the Doctor more uncomfortable than his brother did.

The temperature of the room was beginning to drop and he knew it was time for him to leave. He did not need to set off another ice age. Squaring his shoulders against any judgmental gazes, he slipped from the gathering hall and out into the bright winding streets of the heavenly city.

The Doctor was no fan of this sparkling place, with its towering columns and crystal fountains around every corner. Still when he was not being hardhearted on principle, even he had to admit Olympus was beautiful. Not in the wonderfully imperfect way Earth was, but like a dream that dissolves upon the moment of wakefulness.

Wandering aimlessly he happened across an arched doorway into a secluded courtyard. Peering through the Doctor realized he was not alone after all. A young woman draped in red satin sat with her eyes closed on a stone bench, framed by fragrant purple blossoms. And for whatever reason the sight of her made him stop.

She must be one of Amy's daughters, for her beauty outshone the ethereal garden. His eyes unwittingly traced the cascade of her dark locks down to the nape of her neck and to where the dress had slipped from her right shoulder to expose her alabaster flesh. Yes, the girl must surely be some minor goddess of beauty or desire.

Sensing his penetrating gaze the woman opened her eyes. Caught staring, the Doctor did not know what to do. He ridged his muscles like a jack rabbit prepared to sprint. To his utter surprise instead of disgust, a slight flush appeared on the woman's cheeks as she met his eyes.

She stood up slowly, obviously unsure, and moved more fully into the light. And as if caught in her magnetic pull the Doctor moved forward into the courtyard as well.

The girl's eyes darted from him, to the palace, and back. "Why are you out here, if I may ask?" She finally spoke.

"Because I could not stand to keep looking at my dimwit of a brother." He responded bluntly and to his shock she laughed, her whole face brightening.

"Dangerous words." She teased, pretending to glace about conspiratorially. "But I won't tell if you don't."

The Doctor could not help grinning at her easy charm. Everyone else treated him as if he were another species, even when they were being polite. This was refreshing, though he reasoned that the young woman probably had no idea who he actually was.

She moved closer subtly, just enough that he could smell the sweet scent of roses which hung about her in the air. The Doctor wanted to shake himself, and break free of what must be part of her natural enchantment. He had been alive long enough to know better than to fall under some magic infatuation.

But he did not move.

"I'm Clara, daughter of the Harvest." She said with a smile, extending a delicate hand.

He blinked. _Daughter of the Harvest?_ Then she was a goddess of plants not love? Now he really ought to run. Instead he took the offered hand. "I am the Doctor, King of Death." That, if anything, should make _her_ run.

"I know." Clara said softly, looking up into his face.

To this the Doctor truly had no response.

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><p><span><strong>Notes on Casting:<strong>

Hades - The Doctor

Persephone - Clara

Zeus - The Master [Simm's Version]

Hera - Missy

Poseidon - Martha

Aphrodite - Amy

Athena - Rose

Apollo - Jack

Hephaestus - Rory

Ares - Donna

Demeter - Sarah Jane


	2. Into Darkness

**Hello my Lovelies!**

**Thank you all! People's surprising enthusiasm for this fic idea makes me ridiculously happy :)**

**I going to try to update this by Tuesday each week**

**Enjoy**

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><p><strong>-Into Darkness-<strong>

Distant birdsong and the low hum of bees filled the air with a pleasantly cacophonous music. It danced in the warm breeze playing through the grassy meadow, along with the scent of sweet clover. The world blurred into deepest amber and coolest azure. 

Clara let the warmth of that amber sun sink into her bones as she lay, half sleeping, among the gold-green stalks. They bent and swayed just tickling her bare arms with their feather light touches. She smiled at the sensation, keeping her eyes closed. She did not want to open them and lose the hazy day dream currently forming at the edges of her relaxed mind. 

It was a day dream Clara knew she should **_not_** be having, but the Doctor's smile stuck with her. She could just imagine how he would be here, away from everyone except a stray passing herd of deer. He might begin to relax once he realized there were no judging gazes, only Clara laying in the grass beside him. And perhaps after a time he would lay beside her too to watch the clouds drift across the sky. 

Yes, it was definitely a thought she should not be having. The Doctor had most likely forgotten about her the moment they parted ways. He was one of the three most powerful figures in the pantheon and she was merely a name on that vast roster. Clara honestly doubted she would ever see the man again, so it hardly mattered. 

At least that is what she kept telling herself. 

The Doctor was not like any of the other men who had chased after her over the years. They wore their youth and beauty as a badge of honor, imagining themselves the symbols of Helladic virtue. The Doctor, on the other hand, wore time on his face and in his eyes, and hid behind shadowed walls. 

And it intrigued her far more than any of those other courting idiots, who tried to woo away her maidenhood with pretty words and gifts - a feat which none of them ever exceeded in either. 

Clara let out an irritated sigh, eyelids fluttering open. Blue thistle grew up around her, the spiky plant expressing the level of her annoyance. It was mostly self-annoyance, because _what in the world was she thinking?_ Of all the people to go starry eyed over! 

Relaxation now officially ruined, Clara sat up and brushed the grass grains from her thin, silken dress. Her dark locks tumbled down about her shoulders wildly, her golden stay pins having come undone. 

A movement at the southern most edge of the clearing caught her attention. A shadow flitted between the distant fir trees, just beyond her range of clear sight. At first Clara assumed it was an animal - perhaps a wolf that might come out to visit her - but something about the way it moved did not feel right. Whatever it was did not belong here. 

Gingerly she got to her feet, eye trained on the edge of the forest. Yes there was something there! The dark shape slipped from tree to tree, when suddenly Clara realized there were more than one of them. A **_lot _**more than one. 

Nothing on this earth had the power to hurt her, but she still felt a chill run down her spine, like icy water. The warmth of the sun was forgotten as prophetic dread filled her breast. 

"Who is there?" Clara called out, loud and ringing across the meadow. 

Twisted, thorny brambles burst from the ground in a ring around her. The vines wrapped around each other forming a knee high barrier between Clara and the trees. 

A gleaming silver arrow shot from the darkness of the forest in reply. Clara threw herself to the side as the deadly weapon buried itself into the dirt exactly where she had been standing. The grass surrounding it withered to black ash within seconds and spread out in a circle nearly reaching Clara's toes. 

It was bespelled! 

What in hades was going on? As her brain scrambled to make sense of things Clara threw her arms out calling to the earth. Whoever this was, they were not going to get her without a fight. 

Suddenly, animated soldiers of smoke and stone marched into the clearing. Their faces were nothing more than empty voids, their bodies horribly misshapen. Clara's heart sped up painfully at the sight of them. 

What where these horrors? How do you fight what is not even alive? 

The brambles grew thicker and taller, thorns lengthening to deadly needles. A sapling sprung forth beside her which Clara snapped from its base to create a spear. 

"Who are you?" She demanded again, holding up her weapon. "Who sent you?" 

The creatures began to run forward and there was a great wrenching sound. Stone grated against stone and the earth shook violently, as the ground beneath Clara's feet opened up. 

Screaming in real terror, she fell into the dark chasm. She lost her weapon, fingers clawing at the dirt and grass as the sun disappeared into cold, endless darkness. 

Time blurred and spun out of control until Clara had no idea how far she had fallen. Only that it had been so long she had stopped screaming. 

Finally the world changed. Light seared her eyes after the eternal void, overloading her senses. Clara felt herself crash into someone's arms, head snapping back painfully as she jerked violently to a stop. She screamed again, this time out of an animalistic rage and began thrashing wildly. She clawed at the arms holding her tightly, desperate for escape. 

"Clara! Clara stop!" Commanded a firm voice, laced with concern. "You're safe!" 

She focused on the familiar tones, her vision slowly returning through watering eyes. The Doctor's face materialized above her. His own ice blue eyes were wide in alarm and Clara realized it was his arms holding her bridal style against his chest. Abruptly she stopped fighting. 

"Doctor?" She gasped. Clara was utterly confused, and angry, and scared. Yet she could feel the dreadful pounding of her heart begin to slow simply with his presence. 

"Are you alright?" He suddenly seemed to realize he was cradling her body against his, and carefully set her on her feet. The Doctor kept a hold of her arms though, lest she stumble at the sudden inversion. 

Good thing too, because the whole room was tipping slightly to the left - at least to Clara anyway. Dazedly, her gaze finally took in the room, itself, trailing over the strange walls. 

Cool metal and blue lighting filled the vast space. It was stark, efficient, and lonely. The very walls radiated loneliness, though she could not say how. Black, streamlined furniture was scattered throughout to form clear areas of living space, but without any real division. It seemed so empty to her. 

"Yes." Clara panted out after a stunned moment. "I am alright." She focused back on the man before her, a man she never thought she would see again. "This is the Underworld, isn't it?" 

He nodded carefully, wary of her reaction to this news. "I did not know where else you would be safe." 

"Safe from what? What is happening?" She demanded voice harsher that it should be. She was pushing her anxiety onto him and she knew it. 

The Doctor's response was both the simplest and most confusing statement she had ever heard. "Someone is trying to kill you."


	3. If Wishes Were

**Midterms kept me away from writing (and sanity), but that's over now! Only four weeks left and I'm done with college forever!**

**side note: I made a blog for just my fics. So if you want to know why I'm late updating or if you want to message me you can look there, without having to scroll through everything on my fandom blog. :)**  
><strong>It's .com<strong>

**Enjoy! :D**

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><p><span><em><strong>ch.3<strong>_

_**~If Wishes Were~**_

Clara woke to a soft humming sound. Her lashes fluttered open and for a moment she had no idea where she was. She set up quickly, a midnight blue blanket slipping from her shoulders. The hum was emanating from the walls.

The Underworld. This was the Underworld, Clara remembered, her gaze focusing on the metallic surfaces. The previous day's events returned to darken her mood. Someone wanted her dead? Why? **_How?_**

Who could have the power to even hurt her? Goddesses were supposed to be impervious to such pedantic things as bows and arrows. So then gave that silver arrow its power, because she had felt its strength as it sucked the life from the ground. And what in the name of Olympus had she done to piss someone off this much?

Footsteps alerted Clara to the Doctor's presence before he materialized from around a corner. He was carrying a tray of fruits stacked to a ridiculous height. The bright tower of apples, oranges, and even star fruit of all things, seemed extraordinarily out of place in his hands.

"Morning." He seemed unsure what to do with himself, hovering by the table he set the tray on like a statue.

Clara slipped off the chaise she had been using as a bed and moved over to inspect the food. She hoped if she acted comfortable the Doctor might relax a bit. Unlikely but worth a try.

"Is it morning? I honestly can't tell." Clara asked.

"I can." He replied simply.

She shrugged, unconcerned with his mysterious prowess. "What's all this then?" She said picking up a grape cluster and pulling one of the purple marbles off. Popping the fruit into her mouth she was surprised by the quality of its flavor.

"I thought you might want food." He smiled slightly loosening up his posture. "We have a garden here, but for some unfathomable reason it only grows crabgrass and pomegranates. Also eating it will bind you to this place. Umm… so I went topside to find you something more palatable."

"You have a hidden sweet side, that's good to know." Clara mused making him flush.

The Doctor obviously led an extremely solitary life and the fact that he would let her into it without question was truly remarkable.

"Thank you for all of this." Clara said seriously reaching out to touch his hand, encouraged when he did not pull away.

This game she was playing was a bad idea on every level imaginable. Both considering her current damsel in distress status (that hurt her pride even thinking it) and the fact that the Doctor was older, more powerful, and far more important than her; the idea that he could be interested in her was laughable.

Clara was terrible at listening to reason though…

"I couldn't standby and do nothing." The Doctor said, deflecting her gratitude.

"Still."

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><p>After she had eaten, the Doctor showed Clara around his home - it was more of a palace really as it seemed unendingly large. The place was unlike anything she had ever seen before, which stood to reason all things considered. But also, it was nothing like what she had imagined the Underworld to be.<p>

The way people talked about the place Clara expected towering piles of human skulls and thick low laying fog. Instead everything had a futuristic, streamlined elegance. A canal of the river Styx ran through the center of the living quarters, cut deep into the tiled floor. It divided the public living spaces from the private ones.

Clara leaned over the channel curiously and discovered the bottom was covered in tiny glowing pearls. She instantly longed to touch one, to roll it between her fingers and see if it was as warm as it appeared. Yet she dared not touch the surface of the water.

"They're wishes." The Doctor explained noting her fascination. "Humans let them die long before their bodies decay. In the end they always find their way here."

No wonder he was so melancholy with such things constantly surrounding him.

"They're beautiful." Clara murmured.

He did not respond, he just looked at her in a way she could not read. His azure eyes held the ghost of something like longing and it made her shiver pleasantly. Those eyes then fell to her lips.

"We need to figure out what to do next." The Doctor abruptly switched topics and walked away from the water's edge. And her.

She quickly followed him. "_**Do** _you know who wants me dead?"

"I don't know anything." His tone implied that was a common state of being for him.

Clara growled in frustration. Her emotions were being thrown all over the place and she was fed up with it all. "Well I'm not going to set around and wait for them to try again! And I can't just hide down here!"

"You can until we know something concrete." The Doctor said firmly, his stone gaze fixed on her face. "Until we have some idea of what we're guarding you against the best place for you is here."

She did not want to admit it, but she knew he was right. Also she liked that he said 'we'. With a dramatic sigh Clara sat down beside him on the couch he had just dropped onto.

"Fine." She consented. "But you are not sidelining me on any of this."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He raised his hands in a placating gesture which made her laugh.

"Good."

Clara leaned into him taking full note of where every line of her body was touching his. One of the difficulties in being associated with Spring is it made her impulsive (often also stubborn and overbearing). She could feel the cool heat from the Doctor's body clearly through her petal thin dress and instinctively she wanted more of it.

He appeared frozen as she moved closer as if she were a mirage that would vanish the moment he blinked or moved. But as Clara's hands fell to his chest, he reached up to carefully touch her cheek and brush her dark locks behind her ear. Her heart speed up and she could hear the Ichor pounding in her ears at his acceptance of her affections.

Carefully, giving him time to change his mind, Clara leaned up to brush her lips against his. The hidden, isolated man melted under her touch and kissed her like a man drowning and she his last chance at life. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt, lips parting slightly. His hand slid to her neck pulling her closer. Climbing roses bloomed around them with diamonds dusting their petals like froze dew. The kiss was passionate but without lust or really anything she could name.

It felt like completion.


End file.
